


Connor Fuckin' sipped, Babes

by dittyditto (Triple_A)



Series: Local man says he won't fall in love with a robot, does it anyways with the gnarliest robot in his vicinity [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Chris Miller, Android Gavin Reed, Android Tina Chen, Connor has suppressed feelings that only alcohol can articulate, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Drunk Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Drunken Kissing, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, M/M, again sorta, gavins a real boi, it's a melting pot, oh yea connor gets hammered, reverse au, sorta - Freeform, this is goofy but also kinda sexy but also kinda sad, yea u read that right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-10 16:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18664006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triple_A/pseuds/dittyditto
Summary: The fact that alcohol was even legal never ceased to astound Gavin.Mostly because, right now he was watching the Detroit Police Station holiday party take place, and witnessing firsthand the effects alcohol could have on even the most hardened of people. Including, surprisingly, Detective Connor Argus, half-buzzed out of his mind and singing a very teary version of "Bohemian Rhapsody" into the karaoke machine.GV700 gets the pleasure of overseeing the proceedings of the annual DPD employee holidays party, and making sure Connor doesn't get too fucked up. Like all things, it's never as simple as it seems.





	Connor Fuckin' sipped, Babes

**Author's Note:**

> maaaaaaaaaaaaaan.............idk
> 
> we're in Danger Zone at school rn so im gonna go off the grid and pretend to get mauled by a bear before being magically revived

The fact that alcohol was even legal never ceased to astound Gavin.

Mostly because, right now he was watching the Detroit Police Station holiday party take place, and witnessing firsthand the effects alcohol could have on even the most hardened of people. Including, surprisingly, Connor Argus, half-buzzed out of his mind and singing a very teary version of "Bohemian Rhapsody" into the karaoke machine.  
  
He's recording it, of course, and doesn't notice when PM200 Tina steps behind him, making him jump.  
  
"Fuckin-hell, Tina. What do you want?" She's sipping on a bag of blue blood, the skin on her cheek peeled back to reveal white. She suffered a bad run in with detaining an unruly Red Ice dealer, and suffered minor but noticeable injuries. Her right arm hangs in a sling.  
  
"Nothin'. Just wanted to know what you were doing." She hums, crumpling up the bag with her good hand and launching it towards the trash can. It almost misses, and Gavin quickly hacks into the DPD mainframe to ensure her extra time off duty to fully re-calibrate and recover.  
  
"Are you sure you don't wanna go to the techie? I don't think self-repair is gonna cover a limp fuckin' arm."  
  
"Diagnostics say it will, and technician Eduardo's passed out anyways. Too many vodka mixers." She nods at the man snoring on one of the tables, a pyramid of discarded cups balanced precariously on his shoulders. His Android assistant, Ak-something or another, was trying with minimal effort to discourage Officer Jacobin from continuing their architecture project on the sleeping man's back. "Probably not gonna be here tomorrow."  
  
"I thought his name was Edward?"

"No, he's getting it legally changed. Said so after the third vodka mixer." She shrugs. "Eh, doesn't matter. If it's not better after stasis I'll get Elise to take me to a shop later."  
  
"You mean Officer Chen?" They both twist around to see the women, smiling and sipping her soda as a drunken Nathaniel Argus slurs on about some stupid thing he did as a child. The whiskey in his hand is almost spilling as he leans heavily against a file cabinet. "How're you gonna do that?"  
  
"She loves me. I mean, loves me for being useful." She corrects herself hurriedly, LED flickering to yellow for a brief moment. "Not in-you know-"  
  
"Easy, Tina. Just because humans have ridiculous pack bonding instincts doesn't mean I'm gonna cuff you for being a deviant." They watch Connor climb on top of his desk, holding the tiny, potted cactus gifted to him on some age-old secret Santa event above his head and singing the off-key intro to some old, old Disney Movie. _The Lion King_ (1997), Gavin's analysis supplies. "You just want her to help you get repaired. Doesn't mean anything."  
  
She nods, LED blinking a slow yellow. "...Right. Right." Someone whoops, and they look just in time to see one of the forensics specialists-another Argus brother, Seth-tackles Connor of the desk and sending them both sprawling. "Shit. How many drinks do you think he's had?"  
  
"I'm pretty sure he just acts like that all the time. He only got the excuse to go hard tonight. I don't think I haven't seen him drink anything at all tonight, actually."  
  
"Human genetics out here really makin' anything, huh." They watch Seth come up with Connor in a headlock, now both chanting "Video Killed the Radio Star" as a slow, somber dirge. "Why don't you do a breathalyzer on him and find out?"  
  
Gavin curses. "I stick murder victim juice in my mouth _once_ -"  
  
"More then once, Chris says he saw you do it with thirium last week." The PM700 android in question, Chris, immediately turns around and walks away from them as Gavin glares at his receding back.

"I fucking _told_  him not to tell you." He groans. Chris was now engaged in prying Seth away from Connor. "For an android who's had to both babysit a pyro-maniacal forensics man _and_  his child, you'd think he'd be better at remembering promises."  
  
"He's been specialized in dealing with trauma victims. It makes sense that he'd be good with managing children and...eccentric personalities." Seth had turned on Chris, arms draped around the android's neck while the rest of his body droops to the ground like a cat. "But you're changing the topic. You wanna bet Seth is drunk? I haven't seen that champagne bottle around for a while."  
  
"Ugh. I'm not getting anywhere near him to test his blood alcohol. Connor's enough to work with alone, thanks."  
  
"Speaking of a certain Connor-" The bespoke Detective was stumbling towards them, an empty bottle swinging from his hand. "I think he should go home."  
  
On cue, Connor slumps against Gavin, mimicking his twin and wrapping arms around Gavin's neck. "Gaaaa-vin," He mumbles into the crook of the android's neck, breath hot and wet. "Gaaaaaviiiiin."  
  
"Yeah, that's the name." Gavin sighs, grabbing the man by the elbows and pulling him up. Connor's head lolls and he giggles. "What do you want?"  
  
Connor laughs like the question is some joke, and the sound hangs in the air long after it leaves his mouth. Light and tinkly, downright charming if it didn't come from his intoxicated mouth. "Hii~"  
  
"Get a room." Tina snickers, and Gavin doesn't even look at her to throw a light punch at her shoulder. "Hey, watch the damage."

"That was your good shoulder, jackass." Connor was now leaning his full weight against Gavin, and Gavin had to hook arms beneath the man's armpits to keep him upright. "Jeez, asshole, how much did you drink?"  
  
"Wanna do a breathalyzer on him?" Tina snorts, and the thought of it... **SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: ^**  
  
"Shut up." He mutters, and drags one of Connor's arms over his shoulders. "Honestly, I don't think I need to at this point. Can you tell Noddy or whatever I'm taking home?"  
  
"You mean Nathaniel?"

"Either him or the smaller clone. I'm gonna help the Detective home." Connor's more or less limp against him, shoes dragging somewhat as Gavin pulls him towards the exit. "Let Captain Stern know I'm callin' out."

Tina nods, and turns back to survey the proceedings of the party as Gavin half-supports, half-carries Connor out to his car. The detective giggles as Gavin heaves him into the passenger seat.

"You're so strooong, Gavin~" He says, still in that sing-song voice. "You're an annnndwoooid."

"Please don't ever talk like that again." He pulls out of the parking lot with ease. Unlike the majority of the Detroit population, Connor didn't own a self-driving car, an old stick-shift thing that looked in good condition, aside from an inconspicuous tear in the leather of the driver's seat. It's certainly cleaner then the inside of his house. "I'm going home and I'm dumping out all your alcohol."

"Gavy, nooooooooo," Connor whines, then giggles at the sound of his own voice. Passing streetlights throw dramatic shadows over his face, almost mesmerizing, and Gavin almost forgets to find offense to the nickname. "Ish called liiiiving, Gav. Haaving fuuun."

"Yeah, well, I've no idea how to do either those things, so those words have no meaning to me" There's no one on the streets. It's starting to snow, picturesque little flakes floating slowly down, being caught by passing lights. "Also, never call me that again. I'm going to call Amanda and tell her you're coming in late tomorrow morning."

"Hnnnngh....fiiine." Connor groans, pouting cartoonishly. It's ~~adorable~~ unfitting of someone like him. "Amanda's so meeean sometimes."

"Yeah, I feel that." The pull into Connor's driveway. A light carpet of snow has already settled, obscuring the cracked black asphalt. "Come on, we're home."

Connor scrabbles out the car door himself, almost faceplanting on the ice and doing an impressive sort of dance to catch himself. He holds still for a second afterwards, testing his steadiness, and then turns to Gavin with the biggest grin he'd ever seen.

"I did it! Didja see that??"

"I...fuck, I sure did. Get inside. You're gonna freeze your ass off."

"My ass can't fall off! It's too good!" He crows, with as much drunken pride as a man can have in his ass. ~~Which, granted, was a decently nice ass~~   **SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: ^^**

"Fucking hell. Your neighbors are going to be pissed off." Gavin mutters, as Connor finally starts making his slow way over to the door. He stumbles through, barely taking time to stamp his feet free of snow before stumbling upstairs, shoes, coat and all. "Take off your shoes!"

"Nooooo!" Comes the warbling cry from Connor's bedroom. Gavin sighs and walks to the kitchen, drawing a glass of water before joining Connor upstairs. While the rest of the house was still chilly (51 degrees Fahrenheit), the android had gone out and bought approximately three space heaters after that day Connor got sick, rendering his bedroom a comfortable 70 degrees Fahrenheit.

He expects to find Connor collapsed on the bed, but instead he's sitting on the edge of it, staring at nothing. His mirth had worn off, looking...exhausted.

The sudden change is...disconcerting. Only a few minutes ago, he'd been beaming about keeping his balance on a snowy driveway. "...Connor? You okay?"

"...I don't know." The man looks over at Gavin, and his eyes are glassy with tears. "I...I really hate androids, Gavin."

He's heard that remark, and all its variations, dozens of times. ~~But why does it _hurt_ this time?~~

"...Yeah, I know." He grumbles, setting the water down on the bedside table. All the heaters are on, and Connor had already tossed his jacket by the door, where it turns the carpet dark with melted. He crosses over and picks it up, hangs it over a chair; the room is clean, a drastic change Gavin had mostly been responsible for but which Connor had, under encouragement, maintained.

"No-no, listen. I-" Connor stammers and stutters, looking unsure of himself. "I really, _really_ hate androids."

Gavin takes that as a cue to leave. "I know, Detective. Take your shoes off before you go to bed." There's an idea to go relocate some painkillers from the bathroom to Connor's nightstand before he goes, and he decides to act on it to distract from the concerning functions of his components.

He barely makes it halfway across the room before he's stopped, by a hand on his elbow. Connor-when did he move? and how did he do it so quietly?-is standing behind him, a moonlight glow illuminating him from behind him.

"Gavin-I hate androids, Gavin." Connor whispers. "I hate them so much. But...I don't hate _you_."

Gavin thinks he must be malfunctioning, because there's no way he heard that right and there's no way his pump is running smoothly, with the strange stutter it just pulled off. "I-what?"

"Gavin," Connor's close now, too close, Gavin can see the faint flush of his cheeks from the cold and read the alcohol on his breath. "I-I should hate androids...but why don't I hate you?"

There are a thousand preconstructions for this-ones Gavin will never admit to creating of his own will, never admit to entertaining. But it happens the way he least expects. Not slowly, but all at once.

Connor's mouth against his, and Gavin's processors are overwhelmed with...how _soft_ it is. Connor's lips are chapped but full, and the kiss is chaste but insistent, full of pressure and warmth.

And then warmth devolves into _heat_ , and Gavin thinks he might melt.

It's... ~~ _palmitic acid, ethyl myristate, glucose, ethanol_~~  dangerous, it's dangerous and already it's full of clacking teeth and gasping breath and Gavin _loves_ it.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: ^^^**

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: ^^^**

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: ^^^**

The instabilities flash by faster then he can shove them away, all red and blurring and taking away from the experience, this thing that is eating Gavin up and lighting every electric ending with gentle, flushing warmth. And-wouldn't it be so easy, so simple-just to get rid of them-the wall of them is so easy to just _break_ -

Even as red light shatters and sparkles around him, Gavin realizes, with an awful weight in his chest, that he is condemned. Was doomed the moment Connor took him by the arms and brought their faces together, and will be doomed if he stays here another moment.

He shoves the Detective away.

Connor doesn't seem to want to move away that easily, but he lets himself be pushed back, lips slightly swollen and pupils dilated ( _dilated 33%_ ). "Gavin-"

"Connor, you're-you're drunk. You need to go to bed." Gavin rushes, carefully guiding the man backwards until he falls back down to the mattress. "I-I need to go."

"Gavin, please-"

"No, I need to-I'm just an _android_ , Connor." This should not trigger the saline tears that threaten to fall, warping his vision. "I can't-I'm not supposed to-"

"It doesn't matter, I still want you. Gavin, _please_ -" Connor whines, almost, hands pawing at Gavin's sleeves, and fuck Gavin _wants_ so much, wants like he never wanted before to just fall against the man in front of him, all messy hair and wide eyes. "Don't you know I love you?"

Those words carry a weight Connor can't understand, not in his state, but it sets alarms off in Gavin's head. Almost literal, immediate alarms-the AI handler Fowler didn't know yet, but soon, soon. When he goes (or doesn't) go to his mandatory check-in at the Zen Garden, Fowler will surely know-and what will happen then?

Gavin doesn't want to find out.

He wrenches himself out of Connor's grasp, ignoring how the heartbroken look Connor takes on nearly dissolves Gavin's frantic resolve entirely, "I'm just...How can you love me? I'm just a machine, Connor." He whispers, feeling (really, honestly  _feeling_ ) terrified and desperate and already missing the feeling of Connor's hand against him, large and soft and warm. There seem to be handprints where Connor had touched him, seeming to burn themselves into his plastic covering. "You're drunk. How can you possibly love an android like me?"

Connor stares at him with something like a lost wonder in his eyes."Gavin, please," Connor murmurs. "How can I _not_?"

Fuck, hell, shit, and _god_ , though Gavin had never believed in such a thing. This man was going to be the death of him.

He can't even formulate a reply-it feels like his vocal outputs are fried and gagged, and he just shakes his head and steps back, crossing his arms to try and rub the ghostly sensation of Connor's touch from where they tingle on him.

Connor grabs at him once, clumsily, half-heartedly, but then seems to concede, facing falling with some unreadable sadness. "I-alright. Okay. Alright." He lets Gavin pull his shoes off, tuck him in, not saying a word the whole time. Breaking Gavin's non-existent heart with every second.

At least, at least, he falls asleep quickly, and Gavin lets himself watch, his fingers tangled in Connor's hair as the human's breathing eases and deepens and slows. _He looks so peaceful,_ Gavin thinks, and he thinks that he should tear his regulator out and stomp on it for all the good it's doing him.

Instead, he gets up and makes to leave-pausing to remember the pain-killers-and closes the door quietly behind him.

* * *

Connor wakes up.

And everything _hurts_.

It's blinding, throbbing-the complete set of a hangover, including the cotton feeling in his mouth and dry ache in his throat. With a groan, he turns over, fingers feeling for his phone, which is (surprisingly) plugged in and charging on his nightstand, along with a glass of water and a few pills.

_Must be Nate. Or Seth._ Connor thinks, blearily, and he groans at the thought of the kind of blackmail material they might've gotten on him. Grateful nevertheless, he pops the painkillers and downs the water in one go, relishing the coolness of the liquid.

He turns on his phone, and finds approximately eight missed calls and nine missed messages. The calls are all from Seth and Nate, and one from Elise. One of the messages is from Amanda, telling him his shift has been delayed; likely Gavin's doing, and he makes a note to thank the android when he goes in later.

Then he reads the other messages.

_LittleBigBro: (00:03:00 AM): hahahhskdhfls wher u m fuced up_

_LittleBigBro: (00:03:19 AM): o elis's's' bot sai d u lef_

_LittleBigBro: (00:08:00 AM): my head hurts. i will pay you back if you buy me a latte on your way here._

_LittleBigBro: (00:08:55 AM): Where's GV700?_

And from Seth:

_LittleTwinBro: (00:03:12 AM): <attached: vid_cris_do_bab_shark_dance> llol0llolol absl00te mad lad_

_LittleTwinBro: (00:08:34 AM): where r u and where is ur bot_

_LittleTwinBro: (00:08:41 AM): shit this is srs where the fuck is gv7_

_LittleTwinBro: (00:08:55 AM): get over here now_

Even as he tries to fully comprehend the messages, his phone buzzes with a call. For a moment, he hopes it's from Gavin, to calm the rapid pounding of his heart.

But it's from Captain Stern. With a dawning sensation of fear, he answers it.

"Hello?"

_"Detective Argus,"_ She says, voice as clipped and formal as ever, albeit edged with something like anger. _"Do you know the whereabouts of the GV700 unit assigned to you?"_

"I...No, I don't. I know Gavin helped me get home last night, but not much else." He places a hand to his chest, feeling his heart flutter faster. It was getting a little hard to breathe-what did he say last night? What could've made Gavin do something to make everyone so concerned? "I-what happened?"

Captain Stern just sighs. _"CyberLyfe just called. GV700 has vanished, and is suspected to have gone Deviant. You are to report back immediately."_ She continues, even as the phone slips from Connor's fingers and lands on his lap. _"I understand that you've been granted a delayed shift, but even so your presence is needed."_

Connor doesn't even remember acknowledging that, but he distantly hears Amanda say: _"See you soon,"_ before he cuts the call and grabs his jacket, barely taking the time to tug on his shoes as he flies out the door, nearly eating it on the ice.

Desperately praying, wishing, clinging to some faint shred that Gavin was alright.

**Author's Note:**

> to me buddy friend pals at the detwoit becoome oohman discord.... miss yall
> 
> Find us here: https://discord.gg/gXFfbJh
> 
> Gavin doesn't get feelings because they scare him and honestly? Same.


End file.
